


it's nothing.

by ansutazu



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Friendship, M/M, happy early birthday eichi oh man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9247538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ansutazu/pseuds/ansutazu
Summary: it's nothing, it's only a little further; shall we stick together a little longer? // an eichi & keito fic about their friendship. one-shot.





	

**Third year of middle school. Spring.**

“You should really hurry up and get better soon.” That familiar ‘angel of death’ dropped the pile of schoolwork on Eichi’s bed, having already tuned out the _beep, beep_ of the unpredictable heart monitor and the _drip, drip_ of the IV keeping his best friend’s weak heart from caving in. Oh, how accustomed he’s been to these white hospital walls, the white bed sheets, the window spot Eichi always manages to be put in per request.

Keito knew all too well how he liked the room — the television off so that he could focus on looking outside and taking in the fleeting scenery, food left half-eaten due to his affinity to finer cooking as the heir of the prosperous Tenshouin family. There’d be flowers in a vase on the table nearby, and while he appreciated the beauty of a flower’s petal and stem, he preferred the experience of taking a walk around the Tenshouin gardens, brimming with light and full of the life Eichi could not have for himself.

(He wonders if that’s a part of the reason as to why Eichi loved those quiet, thought-provoking thoughts; if he took all those ‘life forces’ in like a protagonist in a shounen manga, would he be able to continue living? Perhaps that’s why he’s been able to survive this long, to evade the doctors’ decree of having only a few months to live.)

He adjusts his glasses with exasperation escaping his lips, scowling as Eichi flashes an expression of feigned surprise, the sweeping bang that swept his face bouncing slightly as he bobs his head up. “It’s a lot of work coming here everyday, you know. At this point, everyone thinks you won’t make it, and they’re worried. You’ve stayed longer than usual.”

“Hmm? But it’s only been a month, though.” He replies with causality in his voice, as if the amount were normal enough. “Besides, do they really care about me, or are they just saying that to look imposing among their peers? Is it really worth putting in the effort to make a good impression one last time, to say that you’re bothered by how long the _sick boy’s_ been in the hospital, even when you know that he missed out on the school festival and other numerous class days due to his illness? After a few weeks, they’ll be graduating and moving on to high school, making any necessary adjustments to themselves to be able to move forward in life. For the most part, their relationships are fickle; they are but middle schoolers, after all. Will there be any lasting bonds that last through the trials of time? It’s trivial, really, and it’s quite _bothersome_ to hear the same empty words of ‘ _concern_ ’ over and over again.”

“First of all…” Keito pauses, getting ready to lecture and counterattack Eichi’s morbid words. He knew that his friend spoke with experience in mind, the funerals his friend’s attended double what a normal middle schooler should have to go through. Unfortunately, Eichi spoke with honesty whenever he criticized those he did not align with; and fortunately for him, so did Keito. “Stop saying ‘they’. _We’re_ going to graduate, okay? You’re going to live through this fit of yours and come back in time for graduation, the ceremony and all. You’ll hold that certificate of yours — don’t even try to start anything about it being useless, I’m not in the mood to dive into some _tangent_ right now — and you’ll move on to Yumenosaki Academy in a couple weeks and start the idol course there, because you _worked hard_ to _get in_ without your parents’ help. You passed that entry exam _all by yourself_ , and your reward is being able to call yourself a Yumenosaki student. You’ll wear that uniform and you’ll start working. You’ll experience _everything_ you missed in middle school and much more, and you’ll become like the idols your family produces in their business. No, you’ll be _better_ than them, because I know you’re going to give it your all. You got that? Because I’m going to make sure you follow through with that plan and don’t _die_ in the way.”

“Keito.” So his friend’s matched his speech length — or at least he tried to, it seems. Confusion was one of Eichi’s more _unfamiliar_ feelings; he always felt the need to stay on top of things, to fully grasp the situation in its every nook and cranny. “Why do you make it seem like you’re going to go there yourself? I _told_ you that I don’t need you to baby me in high school. I pointed out some good art high schools for you to apply to. Did you try out for _any_ of them?”

“Well, since you recommended them, of course I did.” The lie oh-so easily slips out of Keito’s mouth, and Eichi, be it his sickness hindering his honed calculative skills or Keito actually becoming better at getting around the observant asshole, does not pick up on it. “I…haven’t heard back from them yet, but soon I will.”

“I hope so, too. I don’t like how they kept you waiting. I’m quite impatient when it comes to your affairs; is it your nagging rubbing off on me? I’m more inclined to say it’s an old habit, but you get on my case far more often than I do to you.”

The blonde sighs, sinking back into his bed with his eyes glancing over at his childhood friend, a bittersweet smile gracing his pale face. Even in a hospital gown, he looked as angelic as ever, as pristine as the little prince that had peeked his head through the funeral ceremony of one of his ceremonies and bothered the Buddhist temple’s son by asking if he wanted to play a game; truly, he would have no trouble shining in Yumenosaki’s ranks, and Keito knew that he’d made it so that his name was known, with our without the Tenshouin named tacked behind it. He was going to start something revolutionary, for his childhood friend had a knack for that type of lifestyle, living fast so that the regrets won’t agonize him on his death bed.

“You’ll tell me once you get accepted into one of them, right?” Eichi’s smile only gets wider now, and there’s a glow to him that would look a whole lot better if he were in a healthier state of being. Excitement was packed into those faded blue eyes — that, and a bit of woe. “You still don’t have a phone, though…ah, it seems as if you’ll have to rush over here again, then.”

“I guess I’ll have to, if it’ll shut you up.”

* * *

  **First day of high school. Spring, two months later.**

The flower was pinned delicately on his blazer by one of his family’s servants, for someone feared that the young heir, a _high school student_ now, enrolled in the prestigious _Yumenosaki Academy’s_ idol course, would prick himself with the pin. He insisted that it was fine — he was fifteen now, and extremely capable of doing such simple tasks all on his own. How he _dreaded_ the fact that a single scratch would send the nearest servant to the telephone, asking for the family doctor. His condition was serious, but only through extraneous work or his heart failing to do what it had to do — keep him alive.

The cherry blossom petals fluttered with the shifting spring breeze, each one passing by his face with unparalleled grace, at peace with the world despite each petal ticking down each second he’d lost in walking this earth. They were a reminder of how lucky he was to be alive right now, in this very moment — a reminder of how fleeting these moments were, and how it was essential to take in nature’s beauty with every breathe he mustered. This was not like the time where he had seen them bloom and blossom through a hospital window, out of his reach due to his limitations; he had become equals with that elusive cherry blossom tree, and to stand among rows of them gave him the strength to enjoy life as it was presented to him in that instance.

_How breathtakingly beautiful, but so little pay attention to these seemingly meaningless works of art and serenity._

It took a lot to get the driver _and_ the bodyguard to leave him in front of the school and not escort him inside the gym where the ceremony was taking place. Not only would that be embarrassing, but it was also cumbersome; in a place full of first-years ready to start off their last part of youth, wouldn’t a man in a suit standing next to someone that already sticks out (the blonde hair makes everyone assume that he’s a foreigner, until he introduces himself as Eichi Tenshouin making a business trip alongside his father, meeting with workers with his mother, et cetera) just make his high school life _worse_? Having a bodyguard was not how he wanted to be remembered in the records, nor did he want to be that guy that was too sick to participate in Yumenosaki’s idol activities!

No, he wanted to make a name for himself _as an idol_. _That_ was the goal he set out to take when he saw how _corrupt_ the system was, how _lax_ the students had become in terms of education. It might just be him thinking in the perspective of someone who’s been exposed to the entertainment industry for _years_ — since birth, basically. He’s heard of relatives and his own parents talk about how _sluggish_ current idols have become, how they failed to _captivate_ audience and how they _bore_ them to sleep instead. That was, of course, bad for business, but tarnished Eichi’s views as well; where did the _ideal_ idols go, the ones that sang their hearts out with lyrics that resonated with people’s hearts? Where did the _motivated_ idols go, the ones that danced ’til their legs gave way, outfits tinged with the scent of sweat? _Those_ were the ones that made their mark on stage, the ones that _really_ deserved the spotlight and applause, for they _knew_ how to play the games of the idol industry, the ones that _really_ put in the effort into putting a smile on a fan’s face.

He was but a first-year; he can’t do anything about his status, and that was one of the few things money couldn’t buy. He had to look up to his upperclassmen, address them with the suffix “senpai”, listen to their every word and nod. He knew that he would have to do some backstage work already; it was not ideal for his condition, but if he were to learn the ins and outs of this academy quickly, he’d have to do it the hard way first. There was one upperclassman that stood out from the rest — red eyes that pierced through the crowds with attraction like a magnet, unkempt brown hair scaling down to faintly brush his shoulders. He was told that the boy was called “Sakuma-senpai” — nothing else, because the first-years did not dare try to pry in the self-proclaimed “vampire’s” true identity.

_What an oddball_ , he thought, before the first-years were ushered into the gym at last for the welcoming ceremony.

There were average faces, those you’d find at any regular high school. How they passed the exams for Yumenosaki he could not find the answer to, and a slight agitation spurred in his chest; were they that desperate to fill their classes, to make the school look good? Idols were to be the cream of the crop, but they were but _normal_ human beings, unsuitable for the fame and vigor of the ideal idol.

Ah, but it seemed as if there were _interesting_ additions as well, alleviating the irritation for just a little bit.

There was a boy sitting with a pout on his face, drenched in water and a strand of hair on the top of his head sagging with the rest of his body — _what another odd one_ , he thought.

A scrappy boy with bandages lining his fingers sat with a smile on his face, grin shinning much like the sun. He must be that type of guy that set the mood in the classroom; surely he was popular.

A burly boy with red and black hair obscured the view of those behind him; his back was huge, and intimidation was evident in his eyes, shoulders hunched over and elbows resting on his legs as he listened to the principal drone on about their high school lives.

A —

_You weren’t supposed to be here._

A boy with green hair sits a few rows in front of him, two chairs from the left. He turns to the side, and his glasses catches the sunlight and glistens a bit. His back is all-too familiar to the one he would often see walking out of his hospital room, out of his bedroom, out of his house. He sits in a polite and poised manner, honed from the years of having to perform funeral after funeral after funeral. 

_This_ boy wasn’t supposed to be here.

What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he off in some other ceremony welcoming those who were artistic, skilled, _worthy_? Why was he here, listening to the principal’s bullshit that didn’t and could never apply to the dying boy sitting in that foldable chair of his, that boy whose high school life could only be fueled by how he frantically he did things due to the expiration date bestowed upon him at birth? To be born into a world with the intention to live, but given the gift of a never-ending illness — ha, they were mocking him with that green-haired angel of death being in the same school as him!

_Idiot…you were supposed me behind. This selfish, egotistical, unpredictable boy — I wanted you to leave me behind and move on with your life, to exceed the potential I know you have._

He decided not to speak to Keito that day.

* * *

  **First year of high school. Spring, a day later.**

“Keito.”

“Ah — good morning, Eichi.” They were not in the same class — God could give him that much, he supposed. Shoe lockers rattled and swung, the voices of soon-to-be idols drowning out the conversation among others. There were five minutes until they had to be in class — there was time, it seemed, but not enough. “Do you plan to be late to class on the second day? Put on your indoor slippers and get going, idiot.”

“Did you ever apply for those schools?”

That angel of death hesitates, and he stands up tall, facing Eichi with equal height. “It’s not the time to be talking about this right now — we have classes to attend, and poor attendance would look bad in our records. I’m up for talking after school, though — ”

_Doesn’t he know that I don’t have enough time?_

He does what he’s done so many times in the past, against his better judgement — he takes Keito’s hand in his own cold one, frown etched onto his face as he starts to drag the boy down the hall, as fast as his feet could take the both of them.

Each breathe was excruciating. He hadn’t exerted himself this much since the day the two of them decided to ‘grow up’ and stop playing games, to become what they were meant to be — an heir and his death god. His legs felt like lead, and sweat began dripping down his forehead. Blonde hair whipped past him, and his ears perked slightly at the _ding, dong_ of the school bell, of the signal to start off the school day they were obviously late in participating in.

“Eichi, the bell — stop, damn it — ! ”

He ignores his friend — _just like old times_ , he mused.

_Ah, it hurts, it hurts…my lungs feel like they’re about to cave in._

Luckily he is able to reach his destination — the school’s garden, covered with a blanket of cherry blossom petals amongst its array of roses, camellias, and shrubs dusted with pink. It was a stunning, alluring sight — breathtakingly beautiful, really, and what made the view better and worse was that boy with glasses.

He takes a moment to recollect his breath, his body bent over with his hands on his knees as he gasped for that oxygen to return into his body. Ah, what an exhilarating, heart-pounding run — so _that_ was the thrill of an idol!

“Eichi, are you okay — ?”

“So you lied…to me.” Each word is stuttered in between each pant, and he tries to steady himself, to regain his balance and look his friend in the eye evenly. He wobbles a bit, just as expected, and he wipes the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his brand-new blazer. “You…only ever applied…to Yumenosaki, didn’t you? You…couldn’t leave…me alone.”

“Of course I can’t, and don’t think it’s because I’m entitled to by your parents, my parents, or some _contract_ that you think exists.” Keito crosses his arms, although his reflexes were on the edge; if Eichi were to fall, he’d be ready to catch him and pick him up if he needed it. “I came because I _wanted_ to, to watch over you _willingly_. It was my decision, and my decision alone.”

“But…” A long, long gasp — how long would it take for him to regain his breathe? This was abnormal. “But Keito…by being here…you’re letting me be…as self-absorbed as I want…to be. I’m…spoiled enough as it…is.”

“I know.”

“You could have made…it big with your…art — your manga…or anything else you wanted…really — you could have…pulled it off.”

“I know.”

“Quite frankly…I don’t deserve…to have you by my side…as a friend.”

“About that…” His eyes soften, and his mouth twitches. A smile, but not quite there yet. “It’s really the other way around. Really, I don’t understand how someone as _annoying_ and _stubborn_ as you sticks around a bore like me. You of all people would stay friends with a boy coming from a lifestyle in a temple — you of _all_ people speak of the reality people don’t choose to look at so freely! Seriously, and you get in _so much_ trouble because of it, and _I_ have to bail you out! You, who’s so smart and knows exactly what to say and do…it’s irritating to watch you, but at the same time, I can’t help being _fascinated_ by how far you’re willing to go despite the state you’re in! Do you plan to bother me until you die?”

“Well…”

“If that’s the case, then I don’t mind at all!” His eyebrows scrunch together in anger, and he points to Eichi like in those shounen manga they used to read. “Go ahead, do that! But I plan to keep you in place in the meantime, so you get to live your life as peacefully as possible before you pass. I know I gave up on something I told you I always dreamed of becoming, but the look on your face when you talk about idols — somehow I got a little selfish, too, and wanted to be a part of that. I wanted to share in something you seemed so excited in becoming and working hard in. I don’t want to have planned your funeral without being satisfied with the legacy _you’re going_ to leave behind _and_ participating in it, so quite yapping and just let me be by your side already…!”

A smile. A small, small smile. A smile that outlasted the ones he sparingly gave out. A shining, angelic smile.

He wouldn’t have minded dying at that moment.

“Well then, take care of me!” A complete sentence falls out of his mouth, and he, too, returns a smile. Not those fake ones he’d forged in his years of being the Tenshouin heir. No, this one was a genuine one, one filled with overflowing, bittersweet happiness.

That spectacular scenery then turned black.

* * *

**Third year of high school. Spring, a month after the start of the school year.**

“Come _on_ , Eichi — you know better.”

“It seems that I don’t really, though.” He smiles cheekily, taking a drink out of the water bottle. He was sweating profusely, practicing after the rest of _fine_ had gone home. His choreography did not feel right — with the sun slowly dipping into the hills, he decided that an extra hour of work would be sufficient in nailing the steps he needed for next week’s live.

He had gotten better at balancing his health and idol activities, but even then, that illness of him spiked attacks and retaliations. Keito had come _just_ in time, but only because he’d noticed that Eichi hadn’t returned the studio’s keys to the office when he was supposed to.

“But that’s what I have you around for, right?” 

Keito scowls, although his hand instinctively reaches over and rests on Eichi’s head. “I guess that’s true” — he prickles at the sight of Eichi’s amused expression — “hey, don’t get too used to it, though! Seriously, learn to take care of your own health!”

“Same for _you_ , you hypocrite! Just how many energy drinks do you have stacked on that desk of yours? At least _recycle_ them so I don’t see them!”

And so continued their youthful days.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is pretty much my first time posting on ao3, so...i hope it's okay, orz. this pretty much took two days for me to write? since both eichi and keito tend to ramble a lot, this got really long... oh yeah, i never really did check this for mistakes, lol. sorry it's a mess.
> 
> the title's based off of one of the songs from the kimi no na wa soundtrack, nandemonaiya. it's my favorite song from the movie, and it really fits these two guys. for some reason, when i write, i always end up listening to the write song...? maybe it's a skill or something, i dunno.
> 
> happy (early) birthday to eichi! i love you, you asshole. don't die.


End file.
